SepticGentleman

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

I will end the attack relatively soon, after... a few more action posts, I suppose.

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

Kantus, Dane Parish, and Lillian Gerald

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November 19, 1:45 AM
West Commons, Kantus' Clinic

Kantus stepped back into the room through the corner door, happening upon Dane still seated and still, and Lillian sitting on the tray, head sunk. Both of them looked as though they’d been recovering from fits of crying. Kantus didn’t comment on the scene. He merely approached Dane and picked up another needle.

“Are you ready to answer my questions now?”

Dane let out a few more low, drawn out breaths before he slowly replied, “Check… check the bloody, fuckin’… the hat…”

Kantus turned his head towards the hat, still lying on the tray with the feather on top of it. He set the needle aside, as well as the feather, and picked up the hat. He turned it over and examined the underside of the crown. There was pouch tucked within the crease. He reached inside and poked his finger through it, pulling out a small, folded parchment. He set the hat back down and unfolded the paper, revealing an officiated map of Europe that had been covered in red lines and marks, haphazardly scattered in random areas of the continent. On the back were rows and columns of jumbled letters and diagrams.

“Encrypted.” Kantus said, looking back at Dane. He folded the parchment back up and tucked it into his coat. He stood there and just… stared at the man. He got what he wanted. Rather easily, at that. There was no need for this Fifty-Eighter anymore.

“Leave us.” Kantus said to Lillian, “You shouldn’t see what comes next.”

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

Thomas Marborough

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November 18, 8:59 PM
West Commons, The Pale Horse

“Well it’s… definitely safer.” Thomas replied half-heartedly, “Instead of being out there. Vulnerable to the elements. I don’t know how my father does it.”

The animate mushroom returned with the new beers. He set them aside and Coltrane happily began drinking his, as well as Marcello. It was an obscure thought, but Thomas had no idea if alcohol was even appropriate for a fungus to drink. Especially given Marcello’s continued contribution to Coltrane’s experiments, but… oh forget it, he dropped the whole thing right quick.

Thomas pushed aside his own drink, though. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful but, he hadn’t really acquired the taste for the stuff yet.

“How’s your work coming along?” He asked, moving along the conversation.

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Kantus, Dane Parish, and Lillian Gerald

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November 19, 1:39 AM
West Commons, Kantus' Clinic

Dane passed his gaze over Lillian for a brief moment before he blurted out, "The fuck is that thing on about?"

Kantus pressed the needle against the man's skin, drawing some blood out of him. He kept it up as he spoke. "None of that is important. Answer my questions."

"I… am not, telling you SHIT, you FUCKING BIRRRRRAAAAGGGHHH-"

The needle went a little deeper.

Kantus removed it and, like before, the wound closed up. Whatever was coating the needle was making sure the man would be well sustained. To keep him going for the long run. To eventually spill everything. The Lord of Owls paused for a moment, watching Dane pant. Then he fixated his eyes on the needle, again only for a moment, before he spoke again.

"You speak with him for now." Kantus said to Lillian, tossing away the needle and heading towards the door. "I must check on the status of the conflict. I will return shortly."

He left, and then it was just the man and the fairy.

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

Still accepting?

@Tiggas

Oh yeah.

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

Kantus and Dane Parish

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November 19, 1:37 AM
West Commons, Kantus' Clinic

_{"Your rest is over. Wake up."}

An intense, stinging sensation arose in Dane's chest, prompting his eyes to squint and his mouth to widen. He yelled as his vision returned to him, to faintly see a rather large needle dug into his shoulder, being twisted by a single, sickly-gray arm. As the needle was slowly removed, he could feel the wound heal all on its own the instant nothing was left inside it. He panted, glancing at the darkness around him, save a lone, dim lantern's light above his head. And before that light stood his captor.

Kantus tossed the needle into a waste bin set by a tray of unused ones. Next to the needles rested Dane's feathered cap, which the Lord of Owls promptly picked up and plucked the crimson plumage from. He ran his fingers through the elegant red vane, staring down at it with his unblinking eyes.

"The Crimson Ibis. Albert Lammond's killer." He said, returning his eyes down to Dane, "Even long after its demise at your peoples' hands, its striking visage remains. Untouched by time." He ceased caressing the feather and gently set it aside, on top of the cap. He grabbed another needle and hovered it over to the underside of Dane's chin.

"I want you to tell me all that you know. Where the Fifty-Eighters patrol. How far their reach extends. Where Krecher and the widow are hiding. Everything."

Dane raised his eyes to meet Kantus'. And he issued a proper respone.

"Fuck. You."

Kantus did not reply. He turned his neck over to the further corner of the room, peering into the dim. Where his... guest, resided.

Portwood Institute for Talented Youths (PITY)

Za͘c̡h̀a̛ria͠h B̸a̛l̕e̡

---

Bit of time passed. After Zach was well and satisfied with the impressions he left on the folks in the library, with his not-that-great-but-not-that-poor-either dance maneuvers, he decided to return to his meat anchor.

His body, that is.

He decided to skip the whole wiring thing and just stroll on into the dormitory wing as casually as possible. Still in his specter form, which had dulled quite a bit in brightness given his time outside, he proceeded through the entrance and down the halls, leading up to his room. Once he was relatively nearby, he happily jumped into a nearby wall socket and winded his way back into room 139's bathroom. Good thing the school maintenance staff had the decency to label all the wires with corresponding numbers or else he'd be lost as hell. After a moment, he emerged from the bathroom socket, aaaaaand... no body. He floated there for a moment, confused. He looked down to see his usual clothes were still present, yet his Nomex-clad organic form was not.

At that point, Zach heard two folks talking outside the bathroom, in the dorm. And he sort of theorized that his new buddy Mason had arrived in the dorm, found his body, deduced he was dead as fuck, and got a new roommate. Although that left one question. How'd they get in the bathroom? Door was still intact.

Oh, well.

Zach floated through the open bathroom passage and turned to see Mason and, that, one other guy from the cafeteria. With the hair. And the... and the hair, both standing over his intact body, neatly laid out on one of the beds. Oh, here we go.

"H͟e͟y.̧ Àss̵h͡ole͞s." The specter announced in the friendliest-sounding way he could, "F̕úc͠k͞ yơu ḑòin͏g͝ w҉ith̡ m̨y b͞o̸dy?̵"

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

Alright got that done, my next post will probably have Morgan enter the fray and introduce Garm.

@The Fox Without

Awesome.

Bonus points for any creative kills, folks. Not too over the top, but not too mundane either.

Portwood Institute for Talented Youths (PITY)

Pertaining to the notion that no one wants to happen upon the dancing ghost in the library, I'll have Zach return to his meat anchor later on in my next post.

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

This probably won't be covered in the immediate advance any so, have some free Fifty-Eighter lore, folks.

A chat between two blokes.

"Now why do they call themselves the Fifty-Eighters?"

"'Cause it all started in '58, ya bloke. Same year as the War of Supremacy."

"Yes, but how?"

"Albert Lammond. He was a farmer, and a part-time monster hunter. Eventually, part-time became all-out. He rallied lots of common folks who weren't faithful enough for the Order or experienced enough for the Silvers. And it got real big, real fast. Man had a whole army of pissed off drunks, beggars, and even a few freelance hunters. They started calling themselves the Fifty-Eighters at the turn of the year to commemorate their formation. And Lammond's death in December."

"How did he die?"

"This fuckin' big red, fire-spewin bird flew over to his house and burned him to a crisp. And then his wife Ginny and the rest of the boys killed it right quick. Plucked its feathers and put 'em on hats and cloaks and stuff, for the seasoned members. Ginny took over after that. Things were pretty quiet for a while... until Maude Krecher came around. Then they were all more pissed off than ever."

"What did she do differently?"

"Imagine a fat, ugly woman with a shotgun and a butchering knife, who's had a fancy for killing monsters since she was a plump lil' gal. Now put her in charge of rallying fields full of blokes just as mad as her. Maude was the proper successor to Albert, but Ginny still technically leads. They're always by each other now, never seen apart. Ginny just sits in a rocking chair while Maude handles all the business. It's... kind of sad, when you look at it."

"But they're still pissed?"

"Definitely. They've lost some members over the past few years ever since the War was declared over, but they still keep their rounds up. Making sure nothing's left over. And they have a laugh and a drink doin' it too."

Voldoa: City of Monsters (A meeting among Tarblatt, certain Engineers, and the Hands will be conducted soon.)

Very nice. Go ahead and add her.